Author: nicbish

Everyone has things they’re good at, and things they’re not. I really like people and I’m kind. BUT:

I’m not a patient person. I wish I was. My husband and youngest daughter have the ability to wait patiently, doing nothing, in a queue for ages. That drives me crazy so I always try to carry a book or magazine in my handbag. Then I’m not bored. In fact I’m happy.

And I’m not good at camping. I try. I book the family camping trip to Tawharanui every year. It’s a stunningly beautiful regional park.

I love it there during the day. BUT the facilities are nothing more than long drop toilets across the field and water taps. That’s it. No showers, no kitchen facilities. No electricity or Netflix. And sometimes other campers can hold noisy parties at night.

So, my husband and kids have come up with a plan. Because they love camping they’ll go for four nights and I’ll join them for the last two. Great idea. But I’m already wondering if I can renegotiate to come home on the second evening – maybe leaving Tawharanui about 5pm. Then I can have two whole days with them and still get home in time to have a hot shower and watch whatever I feel like on TV. Sounds like a great plan to me.

I usually love, love, love Christmas but a month ago I couldn’t understand why I wanted it to be months away.

I couldn’t stomach the idea of putting up a Christmas tree or decorations. I finally realised that, as our house is currently a building site (literally), the idea of adding to the chaos and stuff we have everywhere just made me feel sick.

Some of the rooms now have new floors so we can put the stuff back. This has made our house much more livable. And my 15 year old told me firmly a week ago that she was putting up the Christmas tree – her energy gave me the push to drag all the ornaments out (four big boxes of them).

We put up the tree and selected a few favourite ornaments for the lounge. Not many. Then put everything else back into storage for next year.

And now I’m loving the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree and the silver deer and tree on the table. And the stockings hung on the chimney.

Imagine if Meryl been so gutted by being told she was too ugly for a role that she gave up acting? How many other young men and women have given up their dreams after someone told them they were no good, or not good looking enough?

Halloween in my hometown, Auckland, New Zealand means groups of children in costume roaming the local streets, knocking on doors saying trick or treat for lollies.

They come out about 4pm until dinner time, about 6.30pm (often accompanied by a parent or older sibling). By then we’ve generally run out of mini chocolate bars to give the kids so we bring in the signs. It’s getting dark then too so it’s a perfect time to end. Also, our dog barks at every person who comes to the door so it’s a noisy evening.

I’ve always enjoyed this as a time to see the local kids out having fun. One of my neighbours (with kids the same age as mine) doesn’t like kids knocking on doors asking for lollies. So they put a sign on their gate politely saying no trick or treaters please. And that’s all good. The festival is not for them.

Now one of my daughters is 14 she’s too old to go trick or treating. So she’s going to the movies tonight to see Happy Death Day with a friend. Probably a perfect movie for Halloween.

This is the best in human nature. It’s the same impulse I see in children’s playgrounds. Whenever a child cries or is in trouble all the parents, many of them complete strangers, look up ready to rush over to help if needed.

Outside of books, I’ve never heard of a group of people forming a human chain in the sea to save someone before. Whoever thought of the idea on the beach that day saved that family. I love it when humans come together to help others.

Day three of a cold and the beginning of a long weekend, I spent most of the day in lovely clean pyjamas. I’d always thought Peter Alexander pyjamas looked pretty but were too expensive – until they had a huge sale. Now I understand – they are so cute and comfortable I could live in them. And when I’m sick with a cold – I do live in them, at least on the weekend when I don’t have to go anywhere. (I got back into jeans to drive the kids to the shops in the afternoon then jumped back into pjs).

This is a new thing for me. My family growing up would have been embarrassed to be caught in sleep clothes during the day. How slothful. But the pjs make me feel warm and comfortable. And taking care of myself, I’m sure helps the cold go away faster.